


halfway to home

by LugianBeforeSwine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, I am so sorry, M/M, i don't know why this happened, offscreen major character death, pure angst, there is no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7111510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LugianBeforeSwine/pseuds/LugianBeforeSwine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It couldn’t be too sappy, but it had to be meaningful. And it had to be short. And it had to be something that he would actually say and that Tooru would actually like.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	halfway to home

The ring is a beautiful, shimmering silver, and when it catches the light, it shines like the sun itself. It’s not a particularly remarkable-looking ring on the outside, but Tooru, contrary to popular belief, did not want anything too flashy or gaudy. The real value of the ring—what made Tooru’s heart clench and his eyes squeeze shut—is the engraving on the inside of the band.

_It couldn’t be too sappy, but it had to be meaningful. And it had to be short. And it had to be something that he would actually say and that Tooru would actually like. He scrubs his hands through his hair. He probably should have thought of this before arriving at the jewelry shop. Good thing he got here early._

The ring fits perfectly on the third finger of Tooru’s left hand, but he instead wears it on a silver chain around his neck. He never takes it off—not to sleep, or shower, or play on the community volleyball team. When he’s stuck on a difficult project at work, he often rolls it between his thumb and first finger, and that usually helps inspiration to strike. His coworkers are cordial to him, and he’s gone out for drinks with them a few times, but they never ask about the ring, and he never offers any information. He wonders if they’re curious, or if they already know.

_He’s written it down, because it’s too awkward to say out loud to this old jewelry store owner. ‘Tooru—my first and only love’. It’s succinct, it’s romantic, and most of all, it’s honest, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a little embarrassing. Everything has been a little embarrassing these past few days, probably due to the anxious energy he’s been buzzing with since he promised himself he would get Tooru a ring. He would propose. Tooru would be ecstatic…that makes him smile, and he takes a seat in the store’s front room, waiting for the inscription to be done._

When Tooru can’t sleep, he runs his fingers over the words on the ring over and over and over again, and hopes that that doesn’t cause them to fade. But he needs something—something tangible and real and true. He can’t change the past—he can barely plan his future—but the ring grounds him. And sometimes it feels distinctly warm to the touch, but that could just be his imagination.

_It’s perfect. The engraving was expensive, but he expected that. He pushes the shop door open, alight with energy, and keeps one hand on the box containing the ring that’s sitting deep in his front pocket. He doesn’t want to make a huge deal out of the proposal like some couples do—he doesn’t want a friend waiting in the shadows to take pictures, and he doesn’t want to take Tooru somewhere totally public and very obvious. He wants to do it in their apartment, their tiny, crappy, freezing cold apartment, and as he considers this, he realizes that he also wants to do it tonight. As soon as possible. The sooner the better. He flags down a taxi, too worked up to wait for the bus, and clenches the box in his pocket as the driver speeds down the street._

Nothing was ever the same, or could be the same, but Tooru has the ring. Not that he needs proof, not that he needs a declaration, but as much as the ring belongs to Tooru, it also belongs to Hajime. Hajime. Tooru’s lost count of how many times he’s cried.

_Halfway to home, halfway to Tooru, and a car whips around the corner in front of his taxi, a driver the police would soon discover was drunk behind its wheel. For an awful moment, all he can hear is the sound of metal being crushed. His legs go numb, then ignite with pain as though someone’s lit them on fire. The taxi driver is screaming. He grips the ring box in his pocket—_

Tooru was making dinner when the phone rang.

_“I know it’s a small consolation,” the officer tells him a few days later, “but this was in his pocket.” He hands Tooru a small black box, then stands up and makes to leave, but then one of his hands clenches on Tooru’s shoulder. Neither of them speaks for a minute. “I’m sorry, son,” he says finally._

_Tooru doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even look up as the officer exits his apartment._

_He’s still sitting at his kitchen table staring at the ring when the sun goes down a few hours later. His phone has been buzzing constantly the last few days, but he’s ignored all the calls except the one from his mother, and she had the decency to keep it brief, only asking if he’d like her to come stay with him for a while. He’d declined her offer._

_Hajime. Hajime. He brings the ring to his lips._

_The metal feels soft and warm._


End file.
